My stomach lurches so hard I think I might actually be sick. My instinct is to flee before they see me, but I am glued to the spot by a morbid curiosity to find out what exactly is going on inside that daybed. I don’t have to wait long.
‘Careful! You’ll stain the cushions,’ Simone shrieks.
Dom’s voice, low and husky. ‘Do you want me to do this or not?’
‘I asked you to, didn’t I? It’s no use asking Felix. He never does it properly.’
‘Then keep still!’ Dominic tuts.
Simone groans with pleasure. Another wave of nausea washes over me. This is torture.
‘There you go. All done. And I’ve put some factor fifty on that mole on your shoulder.’
‘You’re a star, Dom. Thank you.’
My face flushes.Factor fifty. Dominic and Simone aren’t making mad passionate love in there. Dominic is applying sun cream. That’ll teach me to jump to conclusions.
I clear my throat. ‘Hey, you two. I’ve just been wrestling with the Gaggia and I won. Want a coffee?’
Dominic appears first, a bottle of Ambre Solaire in his hand.
‘A flat white would be lovely. I’ll come with you.’
Simone steps elegantly down from the daybed. Her halterneck swimsuit showcases her taut, slim figure. Though we share the same thick, dark hair, I have my grandmother’s milky Irish colouring whereas Simone has naturally olive skin. Her cat-like eyes widen slightly as she takes in my maxi dress. ‘Wow, you’re making me feel distinctly under-dressed. I should have said we only dress for dinner.’ She laughs, and the sound sets my teeth on edge.
‘Do you want a coffee or not?’ It comes out sharper than I intended and I catch Simone and Dominic sharing a look.
‘A cappuccino, please. You’re an absolute angel. Thank you.’
‘Everything OK?’ Dominic asks as we walk back to the kitchen. ‘You seem a little…tense.’
Should I tell him I don’t like the way Felix makes me feel, the way his eyes rove over me as if I’m a piece of meat, there for the taking? Even if I do, what’s Dom going to do about it? Felix is one of his oldest friends. We’re staying here as his guests. It’s not like we can book ourselves into a hotel down the road. There aren’t any hotels on the island. There aren’t even any proper roads, just dirt tracks. The remoteness of the place presses down on me.
‘I’m fine,’ I say shortly. ‘Just a bit tired.’
‘As I remember, you were the one keeping me up all night.’ Grinning, he pulls me close. ‘I keep getting flashbacks,’ he whispers in my ear. ‘Fancy a repeat performance later?’
As usual, he knows exactly the right thing to say.
‘If you behave yourself.’ I grin back, then frown. ‘Does this dress suit me?’
He takes a step back and narrows his eyes appraisingly. ‘It’s very…colourful.’
‘I knew it!’ I wail. ‘It looks terrible, doesn’t it?’
‘It’s fine. Though I prefer you with nothing on.’
Below us, an engine starts up, coughing and spluttering like a seasoned smoker.
‘What the hell is that?’ Dom says.
We peer over the edge of the terrace. A huge yellow digger is lumbering across the building site below. In the daylight I can see what was hidden by the dark last night: a stack of what look like giant sugar cubes perched on a dusty promontory. They are piled three high and defy gravity, cantilevered terraces jutting out from every storey. Even to my untrained eye, it’s some feat of engineering. Surrounding the sugar cubes are associated mounds of rubble and soil, builders’ pallets piled with stone, tiles and timber, and a variety of vehicles, from dusty pick-up trucks to a small crane. Half a dozen men in high-vis jackets and yellow hard hats scurry about like worker ants, periodically calling out to each other in Greek.
As we watch, the digger stops, lowers its bucket and gouges out a long, rectangular hole that looks alarmingly like a grave.
‘Must be the swimming pool,’ Dom guesses. ‘Look, you can see where they’ve marked it out. Felix is not going to be happy. It’s twice the size of his.’
‘And they’re going to have much better views of the bay.’ I try to hide my glee. No matter how rich or successful you are, there’s always going to be someone with more money, more clout.
